


Cigarette Burns and Coffee Stains

by WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield



Series: Be Cool [1]
Category: From Dusk Till Dawn (1996), From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series, TARANTINO Quentin - Works
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4994068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield/pseuds/WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth can't let go of the past. She's a distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cigarette Burns and Coffee Stains

She smells like cigarettes, he stinks like bourbon. It's been a brief affair - they met outside a bar, their eyes meeting over a Culebra as it crumbled into dust, dying screams fading into the night. His eyebrows quirked in half-drunken interest, and the next thing she knew she was pressed up against his motel room wall whimpering into his shoulder as he panted into her neck. They fell onto the bed afterwards, both sweaty and hazy, and he grunted his name in the darkness, his voice barely audible. She told him hers, but she wasn't even sure he heard it before he fell asleep. That was four days ago.

His eyes are unfocused from the heroin, he's slouching against her and staring up at her as she takes another drag of her cigarette, blowing a smoke ring out into the room and watching it dissipate. She brings her knee up to her chest, resting her elbow on it and staring at the smoldering end of the cigarette, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as one of Seth's heavy arms slides across her waist. He's getting comfy. 

"Night, Gecko." She murmurs, tapping ash away on the tiny ashtray on the bedside table. He tries to formulate a response, but gives up halfway through, instead just rolling over, burying his face into the pillow. With a sigh she drops her cigarette into the ashtray, crushing it against the glass.

 

The next morning she wakes up before him just like always, and makes a pot of black coffee. By the time it's come to the boil he's hauled himself out of bed and pulled on yesterday's clothes, sitting down at the two person table in the kitchen area, his head hanging low. She pours them both a cup of coffee and sits opposite him, watching as he reaches for the cup with a groan, leaning over it heavily and not making eye contact. 

She doesn't bother talking to him. They've only spent a few days together, but she knows his morning habit; it's not a difficult routine to pick up. He won't say anything for at least half an hour, that's how long it takes him to drink his coffee. Then he'll stumble into the bathroom, clean himself up a little while she picks up the bottles of alcohol strewn around the place from last night. When he comes out of the shower he's in a better mood - he'll even talk to her, if only a few words. 

He's a bank robber. She's seen his mugshot, heard Culebras talking about him. He's one of the  _Hermanos Geckos_. Except now it's just him, no Richie, and she can tell that eats him up inside. They're planning a job, a tiny little bank that'll get them a few hundred bucks, maybe even a thousand if they're really lucky. It's nothing to him, she knows he's pulled better jobs, knows you don't become an infamous criminal for nickle and dime robberies. But he's being cautious. He doesn't trust her not to fuck it up. Doesn't trust her not to act like Richie. He keeps saying it over and over; "Richie would do this. Richie would stay here. Richie would look out for this." She reminds him she's not Richie, and he pushes his chair back with a scowl, going for the door without a word. It slams shut behind him, and she can hear tires screech in the parking lot. 

He's back in a couple of hours, she can hear the bottles of alcohol clink against each other in the cheap plastic bag that he puts on the bed. A fresh pack of smokes lands on the table in front of her, and she lights up immediately, glad for the distraction as he sits down to go through the plan again. He only mentions Richie once this time, and as soon as the name passes his lips he shoots her an uncertain glance, checking for her reaction. She doesn't say anything to him, and he carries on talking, carries on planning. 

Her job is simple - she plays the innocent hostage while he plays the dangerous criminal. After all, he remarks, no-one's gonna stop a man with a gun to the head of a pretty girl, are they?

She asks how he's got this planned out already - after all Richie was good, but he wasn't 'damsel in distress' material. His eyes lower for a second and his jaw clenches. He murmurs a name, 'Kate', and she wonders if she's catching him on the rebound from a criminal girlfriend. He doesn't mention her again though, just finishes off with the plan before packing everything away with a long drawn out sigh, his dark eyes flickering towards his bag. She follows his gaze. 

His heroin doses are getting earlier and earlier. It's only four o'clock and he's getting twitchy, but she knows from experience with some previous 'friends' that holding back from a junkie is a bad idea, so she gets up and tells him to sit on the bed. She grabs a needle and pushes it into his skin slowly, watching his eyes flutter closed and listening to the gentle sigh as he falls backwards onto the bed. The needle is disposed of, and for a few seconds she just watches him floating in his drug-induced haze, until he beckons her towards the bed with one finger. 

She doesn't exactly feel comfortable spooning with a heroin addict who's high as a kite, but Seth's arms are so heavy and comforting around her that she allows herself to be pulled to his chest, allows herself to enjoy it just a little bit, and when he buries his face into her hair and murmurs her name she can't help but smile a little.

His breathing evens out a little after a few minutes, and she listens to him talking in his sleep while she stays awake, staring at the wall in front of her as she hears Richie's name over and over again, in varying degrees of sleepy anger. Then he murmurs 'Kate', and his arms tighten around her a little, pulling her further against his chest. And then she hears it. 

Her name. 

His breath tickles the back of her neck, and his warm arms wrap around her so much that it should be uncomfortable, but she doesn't move an inch for the rest of the night. 

The next morning he wakes up first, and she opens her eyes to see him making her a pot of coffee, a tiny smile on his lips. 


End file.
